Lights, Camera, Fraction
by FlightyBird
Summary: Alfred F. Jones loves being a film student, but his problem is that none of his storyboards are ever any good in his eyes. When he has a chance meeting with one of his favorite YouTubers, ArtIsNoPro, a relationship begins to bloom. Will Alfred ever realize that maybe film making isn't his thing, but in fact drawing may be his best bet? UKUS /Minor FRUS/M for smut later and language
1. Chapter 1: Alfred

Lights, Camera, Fraction

Alfred smiled as he opened the door to his one bedroom apartment with its brightly decorated walls and artsy furniture. Quickly slipping off his converse, he headed into the dining room that doubled as a living room and set his bag on his dining room table. Then without much trouble he took off his sweater, headed over to the couch, plopped down, and pulled his laptop into his lap. It was time for his favorite part of his Friday night: YouTube time.

Most would call it lame seeing as they rather be out partying, but Alfred was a much different man. He enjoyed watching videos that other people made. They were kind of like a fuel to his imagination, something that kept him wanting to come up with his crazy video ideas. Sadly none of these ideas ever really made it though. It usually went something like, Lights, Camera, Fraction because Alfred was known to pull the cord on his ideas. He could just never come up with something good enough to get out there into the world…This of course was his opinion against many who said his ideas were wonderful.

There was one person though, this person made Alfred feel like his videos were actually worth something and always succeeded in making him smile despite whatever mood he may be in. This one person was somebody that didn't even know he existed; Alfred was only just a one up on his number of subscribers really. Al didn't mind though, he knew that as long as he could just watch the dude's videos he would be the happiest guy ever. This 'dude' is ArtIsNoPro or Arthur as he asks the viewers to call him.

As Alfred clicks the name in his subscriptions box he faintly begins to remember the first video he'd ever watched from the other man. It had been one entitled, _Space Pants_, that Alfred had come across whilst searching the web with his older twin Matthew. After watching a few of his other videos the American had become intrigued with how easy Arthur seemed to spit out ideas and how amazing they all sounded. Soon enough Arthur became a type of inspiration to an eighteen year old Alfred, now nineteen. Humming as the video loaded, Al stared at the small pinwheel spinning around and around, his mind beginning to forming an idea.

Hastily the sunny blonde pulled out a well worn sketch book and began drawing out a storyboard. A man named Dave getting sucked into his computer where he meets a giant bug-man that has to help him get out. The catch in the story was that of course the bug-man, also named Dave, can't remember how to get out of the computer! As Alfred read over the storyline in his head again, he sighed and tossed the sketchbook onto his clear coffee table. His attention quickly turning to the screen of his computer for some entertainment that was actually worth a penny…

"Hey guys, so the other day I was out in town and I noticed for once just how odd adverting can be," Arthur said on the computer screen, his rather large eyebrows making the video seem more comical as Alfred watched. You could never get him to admit his eyebrows were huge, nor that the man liked to talk about funny things that seemed to make little sense. "Who advertises a toy as, 'The more you play with it the harder it gets'?! That just sounds bloody sexual to me! If I had a child I defiantly wouldn't buy anything that has a slogan like that.

Alfred chuckled at Arthur's antics as he cuddled into the couch to watch the two new videos that his favorite Briton had put out.

About a half an hour later the American felt his stomach growl and with a groan he rose from the couch. Leaving his laptop on the coffee table he quickly went to get his jacket so he could head out into the busy streets of London. Pulling on the thin leather jacket he noticed the large cat sitting in the window sill that was eyeing him rather intently. "Oh hey Gentleman," he said nervously, "I forgot to feed you again didn't I?"

With the cat finally fed and only minor damage done to his hand, he quickly went out the door to hopefully catch a bus that could take him somewhere nice to eat. He wasn't exactly the richest man in the world, but he could still manage to get by quite fine with the money that he did get from both his parents and his nice job as a clerk at a local shop. It also helped that he actually only rarely went out to eat, much more interested in home cooking seeing as it kept him from missing home in Virginia too much. "You and me just fishin' in the dark," he softly sang off key as he waited for the bus at the stop.

He noticed as he did the light starting to turn on and he watches as the crowd around him began to shift, changing from tame to wild. It was an odd display really though of course it made sense, it was late on a Friday and so many people would be out to party. It gave Alfred ideas though; lovely colorful ideas that made him creepily grin and scare the poor man sitting on the bench beside him. Finally though, he pulled out his sketchbook to begin another storyboard which he continued on the bus once it had come for him. There he noticed a man sitting in a bench asleep, his suit ruffled and he looked rather worn out making the American smile sympathetically.

The man he saw was quickly transformed into his bug-man and the people out on the streets to an array of butter-fly people who rushed to clear the streets, so then the spiders and bugs could come out. He was amongst them, the bugs and spiders watching from the buses. Their eyes watched as the butter-flies rushed to hide away though there was one person on the bus unlike them. That was Alfred the human trapped in their world that in the morning would wake with a shriek as he found a spider on his head!

Alfred giggled at the idea, earning a few stares from some of the other people riding in the large bus. He didn't mind though…this was art.

Walking into a new restaurant was always fun to the American man because he always enjoyed having new adventures to go on. That was one of the reasons he'd moved to London in the first place, aside from school. Upon entering the dining area he was greeted by a happy looking man with an odd curl off the side of his head, "Ciao! Please take a seat, a waiter will be with you soon!" Alfred nodded as he went to one of the tables near the windows where he could watch the small raindrops fall against the glass. It was a big secret of his that he actually loved the rain. Not that it was bad; it was just that everyone thinks loving the rain means you love sadness, but that wasn't true in the least! Rain was pretty and it made him think of his mother who'd come from Washington back in the states.

With a content bubble around himself Alfred took out his sketchbook once again so he could begin sketching out an array of different little scenes with his new favorite character. The bug-man wasn't exactly an original idea, but it was a classic which was another thing Alfred likes. Beginning to sketch out the long trench-coat of the bug-man, Dave, he began to feel like he was being watched. Turning quickly he found himself looking straight into the chest of a man with a black apron hung around his neck. Said man seemed to have been watching him draw. "Uh, e-excuse me but sir could you maybe back up a bit? I don't mind you watching, but it's a bit uncomfortable to have you behind me," Alfred muttered.

Immediately the man stepped away, a bright blush obvious on his face as well as the surprise. "Sorry," he grumbled as he cleared his throat from behind his fist. "Could I…uh…take your order?"

Alfred was surprised as the voice sounded familiar and looked at the man for a good minuet before he just shook his head and grabbed the menu. "Coke-A-Cola if you have it, but Pepsi will be fine if you don't. I'll also have a burger with nothing on it but cheese and ketchup, please," he said a bit awkwardly, the other man seeming to calm down. Then Alfred looked back over at him as he scribbled it down on the small notepad he'd pulled out, "If you want I could draw you something. I'm not the greatest, but its fun for me and it helps me practice."

The waiter smiled at him momentarily before the smile transformed back into a frown, "Sure, how about you draw that guy over there?" He tilted his head slightly towards one of the other patrons inside of the restaurant, a punk no doubt. The American only nodded as the waiter turned to walk away, his challenge accepted and pretty soon the waiter was back. His green eyes lightly traveling over the sketchbook as he set down the cola on the table next to the lad. He noted that the peculiar man had changed the white page, and his simple request into something far different. Instead of just the punk sitting at a table, he saw a dinosaur in human's clothing playing a guitar from atop the table, the poodles and Persian cats sitting around him all looked displeased.

The messy haired waiter gaped at the drawing, setting the plate of food down when the American finally lifted his head. With amazement in his voice he said, "Amazing, how the bloody hell did you do this all so fast? You must be a cartoonist or something?"

Al simply smiled at him for a moment before he shook his head, "No, I'm a film-student that's hoping to be a director someday…or maybe a camera-man. Either way, you know?"

He noticed then how the other man's face paled, "Y-You have to be bloody kidding me? No offence lad, but you have a great talent here and I think you're putting it to waste if you're planning to become a film director." With that the waiter turned, walking away from the table and leaving a very confused American behind at the table.

Finishing his meal off Alfred looked around the mostly empty restaurant with a small frown on his face. He really wanted to give that waiter a piece of his mind, but as the man came back out from the kitchen Alfred noticed something. The waiter looked nothing like he had before, his jeans had changed from blue to black and he now had a studded belt on instead of the plain one from before. He also wore a large leather jacket as well as a band tee-shirt, "I got your bill and everything right here, so don't worry yourself. "

Alfred nodded and felt the pricks of realization flood him as he looked over the man in his new attire. It was ArtIsNoPro, in person. Alfred almost squealed from how absolutely fantastic this was and instantly forgot about anything the other had said as he quickly signed the bill and handed over his card to the man. "Thanks for what you said earlier," Al said, "if you want I could give you the picture I drew."

The British man smiled at the other for a moment again, "Yeah that would be awesome." Then without another word the Brit was gone and back again to hand Alfred his card. Al, before he got up to leave, handed Arthur the picture from his sketchbook with a large grin on his face.

"Take good care of it!" Al exclaimed and the waiter nodded, but before Al could leave he shoved something towards him. It was a napkin with something jotted down on it, "What's this?"

As the words left Alfred's mouth, Arthur had already left the building leaving him with the napkin that simply read: _Contact me at ArtIsNoPro on YouTube or Tumblr. I look forward to seeing more of your art._


	2. Chapter 2: Ugh

**I am officially taking this story off of hiatus. To all the people who left suggestions and reviews I thank you kindly for them, they really helped me out. Sadly, while I did use bits and pieces of them, I didn't exactly go through with them because I had some complaint on the matter. To that person I have left a long message at the bottom of this story and if you don't wish to read it then just skip it. It's really just me defending my writing process. Nothing happy or confidence building.**

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Alfred sighed as he looked at the blank space on his computer, fingers quaking lightly while they floated across his keyboard. It had been a week almost since the time he'd met Arthur at that restaurant and every day since then he'd simply stared at the napkin. It was currently sitting next to him on the table and he continuously looked over at it as he bit the inside of his lip. Finally he stood up, shutting his computer in a fit of frustration. "Damn it, why does he even want to talk to me? I told him I'm not an artist, I'm a film-maker!" he lamented to his cat who only glared at him before running off to hide under his bed.

The American on the other hand went over to the door and grabbed his jacket, ready to head out for the day. Before he did though, he took the napkin from his wallet and threw it in the trashcan next to his entryway table. He wouldn't need that anymore, he was a film-maker and not an artist like Arthur wanted to see. Dusting off his hands he walked into the hallway and out of the building towards the bus with his bag strapped over his sholder. He had to admit that all he could think about was that Arthur had complimented him and he should acknowledge it, though he brushed the thoughts off.

"Alfred, iz that you?" a familiar voice called through the soft patter of the drizzling rain. It caused Al to jump though he was glad to hear a voice that would pull him from his guilty thoughts. Looking up he noticed Francis standing not far off from him with a umbrella held high above him as he tried to keep the rain off his hair and expensive clothing. With a small grin the sunny blonde waved to the older man and he waved back. Once Al was close enough the Frenchman pecked him on both cheeks, "It haz been too long. You really need to call me more, mon bon ami!"

Alfred blushed lightly at the gesture though he smiled at his friend nonetheless. Francis had been one of the first people that welcomed Alfred when he'd come to England, and though the man hated the place he stuck around. "What brings you to the bus stop, Francis? I thought you had your own car?" Alfred's voice was light as he spoke, having had a slight crush on the other for awhile now.

Francis huffed as he thought about what had happened to his lovely vehicle before he decided he'd fumed enough to tell his companion. "A jerk zat I have known since my childhood decided zat he needed to 'accidentally' break in one of zee windows!" he muttered, earning wide surprised eyes from the American. "Ee' zaid he was frustrated because somebody zat he liked decided zat zey would not contact him."

The younger of the two suddenly seemed uncomfortable with the information, thinking back over the napkin nestled in his bin at his house. "W-What…is this friend's name, if you don't mind my asking?" he inquired shakily.

Francis only raised a brow at him and chuckled, "Arzur Kirkland, he iz more of a rival zan a friend. Oh, by zee way, before I forget, you zould come with me zis weekend. I wanted to go out to dinner with a few friends, I zink you would enjoy it. We're going to zome weird American barbeque place in town…"

Alfred only nodded rigidly before he was started by the bus suddenly letting out a hiss as the door opened. The pair waited for the others to get off before they climbed on and sat down in a seat with one another. The ride was almost silent between the two aside from some chat about school and life in general. It was known amongst everyone at the school that Francis was a very skilled painter who always left the professors gawking. Alfred wondered if the British man knew and liked Francis's work as well, almost envying him for being friends with Francis longer than he had been.

When his stop was called Alfred finalized a time for the date, as Francis called it, and began to get off the bus. Once off of it he headed into the small shop that he worked at that just so happened to be a very cute little art store. Saying hello to his boss Tino on the way into the back room, he reached a hand into his bag to dig for his contacts though he was surprised to find something missing. "Oh god, where is it!?" he exclaimed as he frantically dug through his bag for the bright blue sketchbook. Then he realized that he'd taken it out on the bus to show Francis a storyboard meaning he must have left it there.

Pulling his phone from his pocket he speed-dialed the Frenchman and was so overly happy with what he heard. "Ah, iz this zee owner of zat little sketch-book zat I found? I am happy zat you saw my posters," Francis said before he broke into a light fit of chuckles that caused Al to smile despite the panic-attack he almost had. Running a hand through his hair he sighed into the phone with relief.

"Oh thank God, Francis. You're a life-saver!" Alfred laughed and finally pulled his contacts from his bag. He knew he shouldn't be on the phone at work though he knew Tino wouldn't care anyways, as long as Alfred was working. Walking into the small bathroom in the shop Alfred put Francis on speaker and began to put his contacts in. He felt a little annoyed with how Francis kept telling him his art was so cute, he sounded almost like a certain somebody that Alfred was sort of trying to forget. Not entirely of course, but the part about them actually meeting in person.

"Ah, I am afraid zat I must go Alfred. Pleaze do take care and I will zee you tomorrow!" Francis called through the phone just as Al was about to leave the restroom. Saying a curt goodbye the American hung up the phone and went to work moving new canvases out into the main room of the shop.

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Francis sighed as he walked into work a few minutes later and smiled at a well-known person that only glared at him as if he was the devil. "Arzur, it iz so nice to zee you this morning, how have you been? Any luck wiz your little friend?" Francis asked, throwing on his apron as the other man only grunted. He was staring at that paper that had Francis constantly puzzled. He half expected that it was some kind of love-letter though he didn't know who would fall in love with a beast like Arthur. His eyebrows were as dark as his personality.

Finally the Brit looked up at him and shook his head, "Not at all. I think he's avoiding me…" Arthur's eyes had drifted down to the blue book that Francis had laid on the counter with much care and gentleness. Cautiously reaching out a hand he attempted to open the book and look through it, thinking it was some kind of diary. If so he'd have to make fun of the French bastard for it. Sadly though, Francis noticed and brushed Arthur's hand away from it. "What's wrong, Francis? Afraid to let me read your diary?" the sandy blonde poked at Francis who only rolled his eyes.

"It iz not my diary, it iz a friend of mine's sketchbook and I don't zink he would like you going through it," Francis muttered and scowled at Arthur as they waited for the restaurant to open for the day. Both of them had started to work there a year ago after they'd gotten in a type of contest where they had to see who could hold a job longest. They ended up dropping the bet though they kept their jobs there because they paid well. Arthur looked towards the door of the restaurant for a moment wishing to just get the day over with so he could go home and check his Tumblr and YouTube for that artist's message. His eyes kept traveling back to that book though until he finally snatched it off the counter.

Francis absolutely glared at the other waiter who was now flipping through the book with wide eyes. He didn't attempt to grab it back for fear of ripping the book; Arthur seemed to be quite gentle with it anyways so Francis simply stood next to him and watched him flip through the pages. Finally Arthur turned to Francis with a slightly dropped jaw and a look of complete surprise. The Brit's voice slightly wavered as he spoke to Francis, "You have to introduce him to me. This is who I've been looking for I can tell just from the look of this and the signature matches perfectly." Arthur held the book in front of him as if it was his most prized possession.

The long-haired man only raised a perfect brow at Arthur before he sighed and held his hand out for the book which was reluctantly given back. Francis then looked over Arthur with a small smirk, "Why iz Alfred's art zo important to you? Do you have a crush on him or zomething?"

The look on Arthur's face was one of distaste and pure annoyance at the Frenchman as he pushed past him to go change the restaurant's sign to open. "Of course not, I've only ever met the man once and I don't even know his name!" Arthur huffed, welcoming the first few people to the restaurant with a soft smile hoping that maybe the American would be in the group. He was disappointed though when he didn't see him. Glaring at the French man slightly he began to set to work taking orders, as did Francis. He didn't notice Francis texting somebody every so often.

* * *

"Thanks again, Tino! I'll be back in about an hour!" Alfred called as he left the shop to shoot off down the street. He needed to retrieve his sketchbook from his friend as well as grab lunch for Tino and himself. Looking down at the address that he'd been texted, he finally found the building and was shocked to see where exactly the Frenchman was employed. It was the same restaurant that Arthur worked at. Looking up and down the road for a moment he contemplated not going inside and just getting his book tomorrow when they went out. Then he remembered that it was a Friday, so there was a chance that Arthur wasn't working that day.

Staying low the American cautiously peered through the window of the restaurant and instantly became entranced by a pair of green eyes. Those eyes changed between three emotions in just a matter of minutes before they disappeared: confusion, surprise, and an odd mix of anger and curiosity. Alfred heard the door of the restaurant open and close though he was a bit too startled to even move until a voice snapped him out of his trance. Alfred stared at Arthur with a look of both fear and surprise on his face, "I-I uh…what did you…say?"

The Brit scoffed and jabbed a finger into Alfred's chest, causing Alfred to recoil away from Arthur and rub at the spot as if it hurt badly. "I said; why the fuck didn't you contact me? I gave you my fucking Tumblr and my YouTube account! I was interested in hearing your fucking ideas, don't artists like it when people want to hear their ideas?" Arthur yowled at him. He noticed how Alfred seemed to shy away from him though he was a bit to pissed off to care. With a scowl he looked over the American, "I don't care what the bloody fuck you want to be. I just wanted to see your art because I think it's amazing and I thought it was very inspirational."

Al looked at him with wide eyes for a moment out of surprise before he let out a shy little smiled and muttered, "You…think me art is inspirational?" This earned a nod from the Brit who crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at the smiling French man who stood inside. Alfred followed his gaze to stare at his friend who held up the sketchbook innocently. Turning back to Arthur he decided that he probably needed to apologize for not contacting him sooner. "I'm sorry for not contacting you Arthur…I just…never thought anyone would actually like my art," he said before holding a hand out for him.

Arthur looked at the hand skeptically for a moment before reaching out to take it with a small sigh. He then inquired, "You already know me, but what's your name?"

Alfred then gave Arthur a bright smile and shook his hand enthusiastically, "My name is Alfred F. Jones. I'm a film-student at the college though I think I may start looking into my drawing as a hobby." That comment made Arthur smile though he was a lot more interested in Alfred's smile, it just seemed so bright and carefree. Just then Francis knocked on the glass of the window causing them both to turn towards him, "Ah, well I guess you should get back to work. I need to get lunch and grab my book." Arthur only nodded to him and led Alfred into the building, not realizing that he still had a tight hold on his hand. Alfred seemed not to notice though he was quick to pull his hand away once Francis came into view again.

"Sorry," Arthur muttered once he noticed that he'd been holding Alfred's hand and settled him down at a table. "I'd have Francis come over here to serve you, but he's busy. He's always the most requested waiter around here…"

The blue-eyed man just smiled at him and cocked his head to the side as Arthur handed him a menu to look through. Lightly laughing at the Brit's annoyed expression towards the confession Alfred said, "Well he does seem a bit more approachable than you Arthur. Maybe you should try smiling more, dude." The Brit only raised a brow at the suggestion before he rolled his eyes and turned towards the table behind him where a man was asking for more tea. Grabbing he cup he excused himself and went back to the counter to get the man's drink refilled. This left Alfred alone to order his food and also gave Francis an opening to come over.

Setting the blue book down on the table he smiled at Alfred warmly, "Zo I zee that you are zee reason zat my car iz in zee shop!" His voice was joking though Alfred seemed to take it more seriously and bowed his head slightly as he apologized. Francis acknowledged the apology by patting Alfred on the back and grinning at him, "You should invite him to come with us. I zink zat he likes you."

Alfred's face suddenly turned bright red as he looked up at Francis from over his menu, "W-What do you mean you think he likes me? We only just met…"

Francis just shrugged and said, "Love does not take long to form, Alfred." He then turned to walk off so that he may do his job, passing Arthur on his way to the kitchen. Arthur simply glared at him and handed the man his tea, passing a glance at Alfred. He noticed that the American was staring at him and he smiled lightly, waving to him. This caused the sunny blond to duck his head back behind the menu until Arthur came to take his order.

"Are you ready to order? You've had your head stuck in that menu for quite awhile Alfred," Arthur muttered as he walked over though Alfred didn't say anything at first. With a groan Arthur grabbed onto the menu and pulled it away from Alfred. He was surprised to find Alfred sitting there with quite a bright blush on his face, "Are you okay, Alfred?"

The American stared at the table for a moment as he nodded before he looked up at Arthur and said something that surprised the man, "I...like Francis." Alfred then looked back down at the table for a moment as if he expected Arthur to slap him or something. When the blow or whatever he'd been expecting didn't come, he turned to look at Arthur cautiously. Arthur only raised a brow at Alfred and looked towards the French man. "So uh…don't take this the wrong way. Would you like to…go out to this dinner thing with us tomorrow? We're inviting our friends and he told me I should invite you…" Alfred muttered, his voice was weak with both fear and embarrassment.

Arthur looked at Alfred with wide eyes before he let out a small chuckle and nodded, "Sounds fun. When, where, and is there a theme?" His smile was bright as he pulled out his notepad to scribble down the info as well as Alfred's order. Without further ado Arthur left to go back to the kitchen where he looked out at Francis curiously, noticing how Alfred glanced up at him every so often. He ignored the odd ache in his chest as he handed the order to the chef, he defiantly wasn't jealous of that bastard. What was there to be jealous about anyways? He didn't even know Alfred that well.

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**To the person that left a review entitled 'Sorry' I would like to say a few things: First off I would like it very much if you would actually leave a way for me to contact you so I don't have to go through my story. Secondly, I know you are trying to help me though I have to say that you've read into it too much. I am not asking for my readers to write the plot for me, but instead asking them to give me suggestions; therefore I can make the story better when I do get over my writers block. I do write out plots beforehand, it's just that they don't always float. Thank you and if you don't like how I write my stories or my stories in general then please do not read it. I'll tell you here and now that I will NEVER put a story up for adoption or leave it without end. Also, if you think something sounds rude, THEN DON'T SAY/POST IT because most likely it is and you CAN hurt people's confidence. I'm not sorry for having to get ideas from readers and I'm not sorry that I can't be a PERFECT writer who knows everything about what they want to do with a story. I like leaving things open so that I can take things from real life and add them in if I please. End of story and sorry to my other loyal readers who have to read this.**


	3. Chapter 3: He's Not Mine to Protect

**Hey there guys! Here is the next chapter of LCF! I hope you like it.**

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Alfred sighed as he searched his closet for the perfect outfit for that night when he would go out with Francis and his friends. He tried his best not to think of it as a date though he couldn't help it. Looking at the dress shirt in the room he deemed it too formal and began to look through his other shirts. Finally he found a dark blue V-neck and smiled, deciding it would go perfectly with his American flag hoodie. The blonde grabbed the clothing and then wandered into the bathroom where he turned on the shower, slipping into the warm water.

He took a while in the shower, making sure that he was completely clean before he got out. Drying himself off he didn't bother to wrap the towel around himself, instead he decided to just do the rest of his primping naked. Once he was done, he took a good look at himself in the mirror and let out a light smile. For a moment he wondered if Francis would think he looked good, but then he shook his head and laughed at himself. This was just a get together as friends and it definitely wasn't a date.

Hearing the phone ring in the living room he made his way out into the large room, ducking behind the couch when he noticed the window was open. "Hello?" he answered, walking back into his bedroom where he began to awkwardly get dressed. A familiar voice on the other line made him smile.

"Hey there, Alfred, it's nice to hear your voice again!" The familiar voice chuckled, the sound of a baby crying in the background. The blonde smiled at the sound and pinched the phone between his shoulder and his ear to make the task of getting dressed easier.

"Mattie, how have you been, bro? Is that Jane crying back there?" Alfred asked with a very noticeable hint of happiness in his voice. Pulling on his shirt he continued, "She's getting old, huh?"

The Canadian on the other end of the line only laughed, seeming to try and hush the child with a few light words. "Yeah, she's almost a year old…" He muttered, and then there was the light sound of him talking to another person before the sound of the girl faded. Matt's voice coming back once it was quiet, "Sorry about that…Fran is taking care of Jane now, so we can talk. Before I ask about school and all that shit though, I wanted to ask about something important…"

Alfred nodded despite the fact that his brother couldn't see him, "Yeah, what is it?" Getting his clothing on the American man wandered into the kitchen where he poured himself a cup of coffee. Giving himself a moment to enjoy the smell of the warm, dark liquid as he listened to his brother."

"Well, Fran and I were thinking about heading across the pond to come see you. Mostly so you can see Jane, but also because I want to see you and so does Fran," His voice was kind of rushed, as if he was nervous about asking Alfred if he could come visit. The nervousness was of course unnecessary as Alfred couldn't help but feel extreme happiness with those words.

"Of course, you're even allowed to stay here if you want! I have a guest room and everything if you want!" Alfred exclaimed, happily drinking down his coffee as he looked at the clock. It was about time for him to get going, but he wouldn't mind being late if he got to chat with his brother. Matthew seemed unsurprised by Alfred's offer though he declined; saying that he already had a plan for a very nice hotel. Alfred was reluctant to let him do it, but finally he agreed on the terms that Matt would at least consider it. Finally after a short talk about each other's lives, Matt let Al go and the American hung up with a bit of hesitation.

Sparing one more glance at the clock Alfred made his way towards the door and headed outside into the hall. It didn't take him too long to get down to the bus where he went to the back to sit down. His eyes flickering across the many peoples' faces as his mind slowly began to think about more artistic plans. This time his thoughts weren't towards insects, but instead towards the people himself. He wondered what each of them were like, how their home life was, and who they were. Looking over each one he started to make up names and stories for each of them. This continued for the entire ride to his stop.

Hopping off the bus he looked around for Arthur who had agreed to meet him there and right when Alfred was about to give up, Arthur came out of the crowd. "Alfred!" he called, holding up a hand in a greeting. A smile was pasted on his lips as he slapped a hand on the American's back, making the younger man grunt lightly. "Sorry I was late," Arthur laughed nervously, beginning to walk with Alfred in the direction of the restaurant where they were to meet the others.

"Hey, I thought you weren't going to show…" Alfred chuckled awkwardly, watching the other man as he opened the door to the restaurant. The lights on the inside were dim and the room smelled strongly of barbeque and alcohol which didn't smell so bad to Arthur. Alfred wrinkled his noes when he smelled the alcohol though and pulled his hand up to cover his nose. Arthur let out a slightly worried noise towards Alfred and set a hand on his shoulder, Al shrugging it off. "My dad was a heavy drinker…It's just not a very appealing smell to me," he explained, leading Arthur over to the table where he'd noticed Francis waving from.

"Bonjour Alfred and Arthur!" Francis exclaimed, standing up to hug the American tightly. Alfred blushed lightly at the gesture as the Frenchman sat him down, handing him a menu. "We already ordered us all drinks…You go ahead and order the food though. We weren't sure what to get so…" Francis laughed lightly, patting Alfred on the back before sitting in the chair next to him. Arthur took a seat on the other side of the American who looked down at the menu with a small smile on his face.

"Antonio, Gilbert…It's great to see you again…" Arthur grumbled to the other two men at the table who grinned and laughed at him. The drinks coming over to the table just as Gilbert went to shoot something back at the Brit. The words slipped away though as he turned to look at the brown haired woman who handed them their drinks, her shooting a scowl towards the gawking German.

"What are you gawking at? Haven't you ever seen a lady?" she growled in an odd accent, setting his drink down in front of him before turning to walk off. Her bright dress fanned out lightly as she turned, giving her a seemingly graceful touch. Gilbert stared after her before downing his drink, Francis and Antonio letting out a fit of loud laughter at the man's obvious interest in the young woman.

"Honhonhon, looks like Gil has already got himself a little crush!" Francis laughed, smiling at the platinum haired man who only frowned back at him from behind his glass. Finally the Prussian looked over at the American to change the subject, his eyes studying the uncomfortable look on his face.

Smirking lightly Gilbert pointed at the ale that had been set in front of Alfred, "What's wrong? Do you not like the beer, Alfred?"

It was true that the glass that had been given to Alfred had not been touched; instead he looked down at the menu awkwardly. He in fact was trying to avoid having the others, who were very comfortably drinking their own drinks, notice that he wasn't drinking. Looking over at Arthur he noticed that he was about to say something and kicked him sharply in the knee before giving him a small glare. He wanted to explain things on his own and even more so, he wanted to fit in with the others…well, with Francis. "Well, it's just that back in the states we drink it cold, you know? I prefer it that way," he lied to them, though in the end they all seemed to buy it except for Arthur.

Picking up Alfred's glass, he chugged it down then called for the waitress once more. Alfred had already figured out a good mix of things to order for all of them to share and they needed another round of drinks. Smiling at her the German asked for her to bring them not only the food and the drinks for the table, but very specifically for a glass of cold beer. This caused Alfred to gulp lightly, looking down at the table where he began to lightly draw shaped with his finger. "Are you okay, Alfred? You don't look so good, mi amigos," Antonio muttered as he noticed Alfred's actions.

Alfred looked up at him with a small smiled and shook his head, "I'm fine, dude. I was just kind of nervous about meeting you guys today…"

Antonio and Gilbert only laughed, Francis patting the American on the back. "You have nothing to worry about, Alfred. We are all friends here, non?" the Frenchman chuckled, rubbing Alfred's back slightly. Al nodded, looking up at the waitress as she came back with the glasses. She set each one down until finally there was one left on the tray and it was obvious who didn't have a drink. Her hand seemed to go in slow motion as she brought the drink down in front of Alfred and smiled sweetly at him. Gilbert looked at him expectantly from behind his glass while Arthur looked over at him worriedly.

Finally after a moment of silence at the table as the waitress wandered away, Alfred lightly took his glass and held it up. "Yeah, this is definitely better…" Alfred faked a laugh, bringing it down to his lips where the stench nearly made his gag. Just as he was about to pull the glass away and explain his disdain for drinking, he glanced over at the expectant face of Francis. The small smile on his face along with that amused sparkle in his eye made Alfred's mind go blank and he parted his lips, the disgusting drink filling his mouth. With slight hesitance at the taste Alfred drank it down and after a few excruciatingly long moments, the beer was gone.

Gilbert let out a loud laugh as Alfred set the glass back down on the table, Antonio smiled at him brightly, and Arthur seemed confused with Alfred's actions. All of that didn't matter though as he turned his head to look over at Francis who smiled at him cheerfully. That was what made the slight burn in his throat not matter at all. "So," he laughed lightly, "how about you go over there and get me another drink, Gil? I'm sure you wouldn't mind the chance to flirt with your girlfriend."

The table burst into laughter, except for Gilbert who let out a light growl of disapproval as he got up to go track the waitress down.

* * *

Alfred's vision was blurry as he walked down the street with the help of Francis and Arthur, Antonio following close behind them. It was simple to say that Alfred was intoxicated and very, very silly when so. The American though flailing and giggling was making it rather easy for the other two men to carry him to the bus stop where they hopped on with him. Antonio paid the bus driver, offering an apologetic smile as they made their way to the back of the bus. Francis making sure Alfred was secure between him and Arthur.

"We should have stopped him at drink number three," Arthur grumbled, crossing his arms as he sent a pointed glare towards Francis who was being clung to by Alfred.

Antonio sat down next to Arthur and peered over at the drunken American, "He must not drink very much if he gets this bad over three drinks. I wonder if it was his first time drinking…"

Francis shrugged and shushed the giggling blonde who kept going on about his cat. Looking up at Arthur he let out a small sigh and said, "He wanted to drink so we let him drink. There's nothing wrong with that…"

Antonio let out a small laugh and stared out the window, "It was kind of rude for Gil to bale on us with that Hungarian girl…This would be easier if he was around. He knows how to take care of drunkards…"

"Let's just focus on getting him home, okay? This was a bad idea," Arthur grumbled, looking over at Alfred who was cuddling the Frenchman's arm with a goofy smile on his face. The light pink haze hanging on his cheeks seemed to add to the childlikeness of Alfred's actions and his features. Finally Arthur couldn't help himself anymore and reached over to Alfred, brushing a hair out of his face. Arthur's action caused Alfred to pout lightly, pushing his hand away with a slight look of disgust on his face. His eyes were almost glaring at the Briton now.

"Don't touch me…I only want Francis to touch…" He grumbled, words slurring together as his eyes began to close once again. He seemed to fall asleep as soon as they were shut fully.

Arthur's hand hung right where Alfred had pushed it to before he let a deep frown settle where a once content smile had been. Letting his arm fall down onto his lap once more, he scowled at the floor as it had somehow ruined his entire day. Francis raised a brow at him and then after a moment he let out a light chuckle, "I'm sure he didn't mean it, Arthur. Just drunken rambles…"

The Brit glared at him before he growled, "…He likes you…"

* * *

Showing up at Alfred's apartment was like walking into an art museum. The walls were brightly painted and vibrant art hung on the walls all around the room. Even the furniture seemed to pop with bright colors and patterns. When the three men managed to get Alfred inside they simply stood for a moment to look around in awe at the rainbow of colors. Arthur seemed to take the most awe in some of the drawing that were pinned to the wall with thumb tacks, abandoning Francis with Alfred for a moment to study one of them.

"Arthur, help me get him to his room before you go looking around. He isn't exactly light," Francis grumbled, glaring at the other man who he'd gotten in a fight with just a moment before on the bus. Said man only sighed as he wandered over and wrapped his arm back around the American's waist, helping to support him as they made their way towards the room they suspected was his bedroom. Antonio only walking over to the kitchen to look for something for them all to snack on, sending wary glances towards the room they'd disappeared into. Finally Arthur came back out without Francis.

"Francis is going to stay in there and keep him company," Arthur muttered as he walked over to the couch and flopped down on it. A hand moved up to cover his eyes, "He's so stupid…"

Antonio sent his friend a worried look as he walked into the living room with a glass of soda for each of them, "Who is stupid?" His voice was soft, feeling a bit sorry for Arthur who seemed pretty irritated about what had happened on the bus.

"Stupid fucking oblivious Alfred and that pathetic jerk," Arthur grumbled, taking the glass he was handed and staring down into it. Antonio sitting down next to him with a light sigh.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you liked our American amigo…" He muttered while he passed a glance over at Arthur then turned to stare at the blank TV screen. Arthur's mouth was pressed in a line before he leaned forward to set his drink on the bright red coffee table; his is eyes studying the color of it for a moment to spare him a few moments of thought.

The Brit looked over at Antonio and with a sigh, he asked, "And what if I did? What would it change? He's a sweet kid and a very talented one who's head over heels for a jerk that will fuck anyone who will let him! I'm just the guy that told him to give up his dreams."

The other man's reply was almost angry though it still held a slight pinch of a kindness towards the pissed off blonde. "Francis has slept around a bit in the past Arthur, I know that. I'm sure if Alfred likes him and they act off of it, that Francis will be good to him. You like to play big brother when it comes to certain people," Antonio said, leaning back in his seat. Arthur simply stared at him wide eyed, "I've seen you, Arthur, we went to high-school together. I watched you take almost every new kid under your wing and try to help them fit in. I know you probably do this because of Liam but…Alfred doesn't need you to protect him."

Arthur's eyes quickly darkened with those words and he stood up, heading towards the door of the apartment. Antonio simply watched as he opened it and began to leave. The larger Briton turning for a moment to say, "Liam has nothing to do with this. He's gone and I'm over it, okay? I don't want to protect anyone and especially not Alfred. I don't know him and if he's stupid enough to get with Francis then fine. I don't care." Turning around, Arthur slammed the door and was off down the hallway without a glace behind him.

* * *

In the bedroom Francis sat on the bed next to Alfred who was drunkenly clinging to his waist. Alfred's eyes moved to look up at the Frenchman when he began to chuckle. "What are you laughin' at?" he muttered, reaching up to poke his cheek.

"You…" He muttered, reaching down to brush a few hairs out of Alfred's face. He was pleased when the American smiled at him, sitting up to wrap his arms instead around his neck. Francis cautiously wrapping his own arms around his waist, "You're really cute when you're drunk…"

Alfred's eyes looked hazily at him for just a second before his face came forward and they were stuck in a small lip lock. Slowly they moved back down onto the bed, Alfred's hand moving up to wrap fingers in long blonde strands of hair. "Francis, I love you…" he muttered, kissing him softly.

"I love you too, ma petite fleur," the Frenchman muttered, wrapping himself around Alfred as their kisses became more passionate and they slowly let their bodies be controlled by their desire.

* * *

**I'm sorry about the FRUS so early. I was actually going to try and hold back with it for a little while, but then I decided that it would be best to just let it come now. They've known each other for a while in the story, so it seemed like it would be appropriate. For those of you who are confused with Arthur's feelings, he isn't exactly in love with Alfred yet but he's more of just a protective brotherly type person as Antonio explained. From this he likes to take care of the people that he thinks have potential…Liam on the other hand won't be explained until later on in the story.**

**Amigo- Friend in Spanish**

**Ma Petite Fleur- My Little Flower in French**


End file.
